A little over a year ago I connected with some ladies on Facebook who were hosting a 5 week vision board class. I remember putting photos of black women riding camels on my board. This is how Girls Gone Glamping in Morocco came to be.
Most of you don’t know but I have a brother who is estranged from the family. I sometimes say he’s missing, but that’s not accurate. He wasn’t abducted. He left on his own free will and said he wouldn’t be back. So no need to send out any search parties. But I’ve often wondered if he went away to be with his love, Morocco.
Bilal Abdullah is his name. And I secretly hoped to run into him during my time in Morocco. He spoke so highly of this mysterious place way back in the 80’s. The people, the food, the spirit of the country, he told me about it all. At the time I just replied with a blank stare. But I never forgot the passion in his face and in his voice when he spoke of his love. His excitement hit me, although he may never know.
So I finally decided to go and check out what the hype was all about. And I’m so glad I did.
With the first week of October being my bff’s birthday week AND my angel baby Serene’s birthday week, I thought this would be a perfect time to go. What started out as a couple of friends going on a trip turned into 22, when I decided to open the trip to all who wanted to join us.
I will tell you, this was the first time that Serene’s birthday came and went (in 10 years) and I didn’t shed a sad tear. Only tears of joy.
We started our journey in Marrakech. We were greeted at the airport by our tour guide who remained with us until the day we left. He quickly became fondly known as Uncle Mohammed, and he took good care of us the entire time.
We arrived in the medina after midnight. The bustling noisy streets were in deep sleep. This was not California, or Kansas, or anything like it. It appeared that we were in the back of the ghetto on some long deserted dark 
cobblestone roads that led to nowhere. But that mattered not to the locals. All they knew was they had company who needed some assistance. The men quickly got their handmade carts, loaded up our luggage and proceeded to lead us about a half mile to our home for the next couple of days. This was a taste of the true local experience of Morocco.
Our riad was pleasant. I went with Samira Riads because it was owned by a Moroccan woman. In my search for our Marrakech riad I kept finding European owned facilities, which didn’t interest me. I wanted to give back to the locals, at least for a good portion of our visit. Each room had it’s own unique decor. The staff was really friendly and accommodating, and eventually felt like family. One night we even broke into an unplanned party complete with a soul train line and an attempt to teach the staff the electric slide. It wasn’t the most upscale riad, but I really did want a traditional feel, which is what we got. Lovely, comfortable and like being in a really big home.
The first day we ventured out and immediately got to see where we really were. That dark road had awakened and was full of all the shopping you could stand! We spent the day with our rather chauvinistic tour guide. Although very informative, he needed a lesson in how to deal with women, which I gladly gave him the next day. LOL! It was a half day of learning, some of which I’m glad to say I caught on video for future reference.
The next day was a free day. I took advantage of the cooking class offered at our riad. I must say, that meal ended up being the best meal of the whole trip for me. That evening a dozen of us had a spa appointment. This is when I learned that when Moroccans say it’s a short walk, it could be 2 miles. Anyway, we all chose to experience a Moroccan hammam. Yes, Lawd. I had a chance to experience a hammam in Dubai, but this was different. Basically you lie there and let someone give you a bath. Yes you are naked, and there may be one or two other ladies in the room. If you can get past that, it’s a wonderful experience. I’m told the women of Morocco partake in a hammam twice a week. I won’t go into detail, but if you get the chance, do it.
The following morning we checked out of our riad and took that stroll from the riad to our bus with the same men toting our luggage. We were off to see the desert.
Our bus, which was brand new purchased just for our group, was quite comfortable. Each lady had 2 seats to herself 
– this was by design. No way did I nor my Moroccan correspondent want anyone having to sit all on top of someone else for such long road trips. Although we had pretty frequent stops, 2 seats allows you to relax as much as possible on a bus. And let me mention that our drivers (2 of them rotated for the entire week) were amazing. From hugging the curves in the mountains to backing away from a flooded area, they did it all with ease.
We spent the day riding from Marrakech to the Atlas Mountains
where we would stay for the night. Our hotel was very reminiscent of the Flintstones era. Very much full of character, clean and comfy. There were African artifacts throughout. The absolute best part about spending the night in the Atlas Mountains was being awakened by the call to prayer at 5:45am the next morning. Now THAT brought me to tears. I hadn’t been awakened in that manner since middle school in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. All I could think of was how proud my dad would be that I was there, showing others another part of the world, something he did for me many times over.
The next day we continued on our journey to the Sahara Desert, which, by the way is about the size of the entire US. Massive beyond imagination. It seemed like we got there in no time after leaving the Atlas Mountains. And then the highlight of our trip happened – the camel trek through the desert to our luxury campsite. I rode horseback for the first time a few weeks before this trip, so I was apprehensive but determined to do this for at least 5 minutes. To my surprise, riding a horse is no comparison to riding a camel. It’s like the difference between a moped and a cadillac. The camel is far more accommodating. This time I was able to sit back and relax, whereas on the horse it was constant guiding and holding on with my thighs. Night and day. This was very different from the camel ride in Dubai, where I tend to think the camels aren’t happy. They were muzzled and we were only allowed about a one minute ride. No, these camels were used to being ridden, were not muzzled, and didn’t have that pitiful look. I would absolutely do this again in Morocco.
The time at the campsite was just amazing. The tents were glammed all the way up with hot running showers, flushing toilets and real beds. The Berber men came out to party with us for the evening, and it was just awesome. I bout fainted when I asked all of them their names and the last one replied “Bilal”. For a moment I pretended I had found my long lost brother.
Next we visited Fes, also known as Fez. Our luxury riad was a nice upgrade, and I enjoyed the shopping here even more than in Marrakech. We visited the tannery and got a chance to shop for leather goods right from the source. Unfortunately our time in Fes was cut short to allow time to visit Chefchaouen, also known as the blue city. Although very pretty, I didn’t find that our time here was spent wisely. Somehow our escort promised some of the group they could use this time to visit the post office to ship off items purchased during the trip, and this took up wayyy too much time. I’m kind of a can’t beat em join em person, so I found something to ship home too. But those who weren’t shipping were 
understandably annoyed. So other than have lunch and walk through the medina, oh, and take some wonderful photos, we didn’t do much in Chefchaouen. I personally would rather have stayed in Fez, but this stop came highly recommended. Honestly though, I don’t have to visit there again. But passing through is fine enough for me. You can’t beat the photo ops.
We moved on to Tangier and arrived around 8pm. For me, this was a perfect time to take a shower, order room service, and enjoy a comfortable hotel room, which was a subtle hint that we were headed home. I heard some of the ladies hit the town to check out Tangier. I was asleep by 10 though.
The next morning, after a lovely breakfast at our hotel, we were escorted by Uncle Mohammed to the airport to say goodbye. This experience is one that I will not forget. I do feel like I got a taste of why my brother loves Morocco so dearly.
Would I go again? Well, initially the plan was a one time trip. But yes, I must go to Morocco again, and again. I loved the people, the shopping, the food, no complaints here.
Do I think you would want to go? Well, that depends. Not all trips to Morocco include the Sahara Desert visit, which can be grueling to get to. But if you’re able to withstand LONG bus rides, and plenty of them, and you really want to see this marvelous sight, then yes, do it. I also think Morocco is for those who can unplug, and be laid back. There were no tv’s for most of the trip, and wifi wasn’t the greatest. There’s a thing called Moroccan time, similar to CP time, and Inshallah, meaning “if it’s God’s will”. So if something doesn’t go exactly as planned, Moroccans are not as excited about it as Americans. If you must stick to a schedule, please don’t go with us. You would likely be better going alone or with a small group of your own. And as for walking – something is a short walk away if you ask the locals, but it’s more like a 2 mile trek. So you must be prepared to do a lot of walking. The Glamping itinerary is not a relaxing vacation. It’s packing a lot of touring into a short amount of time. There’s also lots of opportunity for shopping and haggling – if you’re shopping you MUST haggle. If you don’t you could pay some really unreasonable prices. And they will flat out tell you “we love Black women” so don’t get offended or feel uncomfortable by the comments. Just let it ride and keep it moving. And the medina is not clean. Outside of the riad, it’s a pretty dusty area. You’ll look silly trying to shop in your fly and fabulous shoes on the wet and sometimes muddy streets. Some of the small towns where we stopped for a restroom break did not freely provide toilet paper, but did expect a tip for it and for the use of their facilities. A tip is only a few cents, or bring your own TP.
If you’ve been to Dubai, it’s NOTHING like that, except maybe parts of the souk. Not all of Morocco is glitz and glam like Dubai. There’s lots of poverty and it’s not hidden. I haven’t been to Egypt in years but I recall it’s more like that. So keep all of this in mind when you decide if a trip like this will suit you. Bonus – if you want a Moroccan boo, that should be really easy to accomplish.
Seriously, if you’re friendly, flexible, and open to new experiences, you may want to join us when we return to Morocco. This trip isn’t for everyone, so be realistic when you decide if our group and this trip are a good fit for you.
If you’re convinced you’re bold and brave and strong enough for glamping in the Sahara with us, then click here for info on our next Girls Gone Glamping Moroccan adventure. I’ll see you in Morocco, Inshallah.
